There At The Beginning
by retwin
Summary: Nicky was there at the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

There At The Beginning, Part 1

It was dark outside and ominous, with roiling black clouds, illuminated only by spider webs of lightening as it streaked across the sky to the far horizon with alarming regularity.

It was only two in the afternoon and it looked like night had fallen in the valley, but that didn't bother Signora Graziella Picaresco n'ee Nicollette Parsons. She'd always loved the rain, but the days had been unbearable in the weeks since she arrived in Val Currenta, Belpasso and the unexpected rain was a welcome respite.

The sirocco winds blowing in off the Sahara Desert made the temperatures soar. According to the news this years winds had been especially harsh. The temperature in the three story villa had peaked at one hundred and fifteen degrees in the shade, and she didn't want to think what the temperature had been in the sun. It was almost unbearable even though she'd left the persiana's closed all but a few inches to block out the sun's rays.

Even now with the rain sweeping through the valley the temperature had only dropped four degrees. She'd opened the windows and balcony doors of her second floor bedroom when the first crack of thunder reverberated through the house like a gunshot. Her first reaction had been to grab the desert eagle from beside the bed, but sanity returned with the pitter pat of rain on the tile floor of the balcony. She'd been slightly disbelieving until she'd pulled the heavy persiana fully open and rain had splashed her bare foot. Rain was rare this time of year, but it was falling fast and hard without sign of stopping anytime soon.

Nicky stood just inside the double doors, the gauze-like curtains billowing on the wind like ethereal aberrations. She waited for the inevitable shift in the wind that would drive the rain through the open portal and cool her heated skin.

When the shift finally came she gasped as the rain plastered the soft cotton dress to her skin and soaked her hair. The smell of rain and earth on the breeze brought a flood of memories, like so many rain drops on the marble floor at her feet. Emotion clogged her throat and tears mingled with rain on her cheeks and she remembered. She remembered everything.

She remembered the day they first met in Washington. It was storming almost as fiercely as it was now and a friend of her father's, Neil Daniel's, introduced them at a political fund raiser for the newly proposed project, Treadstone.

She was tapped to become the field logistics agent. While Jason was the first 'volunteer' to the program. Even then he'd been called Jason Bourne and it was only after he'd gone rogue that Daniel's had let slip to her that perhaps Jason Bourne wasn't his real name.

The Jason Bourne she met was the poster child for hearth, home, apple pie and freedom. His uniform was starched, his military record spotlessly impressive and his smile was boyish and charming. The Jason Bourne after induction was still handsome, but cold and his easy charm was turned on at the flip of a mental switch. Looking back she realized it was a shrewd move using him to woo the support of key political officials that remained on the fence about the program, before his training had added a hardness to him.

After all there could be nothing distasteful about a program that utilized such innocuous agents. Barely six months later Treadstone was up and running. She knew she'd been used as well, but back then they'd only wanted to serve their country, and Treadstone seemed like a god-send. Niel Daniel's had admitted to her three months ago that he'd introduced her to Jason in hopes of giving him a touchstone to keep him sane during dark times. He'd been worried about the toll the experimental training procedures would have on Jason. Later, after he'd watched while they mentally, physically and emotionally broke Jason, he'd been disappointed when Jason did what he was ordered to do.

She'd hated Daniel's after he admitted that to her. The man seemed to still sit in judgment of Jason. The hypocrite had recruited Jason, wooed him with rosy speeches of patriotic duty and railed about the decay of safety for the American people. Too weak to watch as another 'volunteer' was 'trained' Daniel's transferred to a new post after Jason completed his training.

Sighing she turned and walked to the bed in the far corner. Heedless of her sopping wet state she crawled up to rest on her back gazing at the ceilings unique carved teak paneling. They spent there last morning together in this bed. It hadn't been in this place, it had been in her tiny apartment in the center of Paris. Stretching her arms above her head she grasped the heavy wrought iron and let the memory flood her mind and trickle through her body.

After his training he'd become so totally different from the man she'd begun to love. The warm, charming man became methodical and mechanical, gone was the gentle, passionate man. In his place was a fierce, distant lover with carnal needs that simultaneously excited her and cut her to the core. Before Treadstone he'd been tactile and affectionate, but after he only touched her to fulfill his body's needs, on the rare occasion that he needed to take the edge off. Those times were usually a few days after an assignment, he would show up at her apartment and without words claim her body with his.

The first time it happened like that, was two months after his training had been completed and she'd been in the shower when he arrived. Unsuspecting she turned off the shower and pulled the curtain back to find him leaning against the wall in the darkened hallway. His eyes burned as they swept over her naked body, "Come here!"

She'd obeyed without thought and gingerly stepped from the tub to stand a few feet away from him. His eyes narrowed when she made no attempt to move closer and something primal was kicked to life between them when he reached out and wound her long hair around his fist. The next thing she knew she was being held against the wall by his thrusting hips and her legs wrapped around his waist trying to catch her breath as she stared into burning blue eyes.

He hadn't kissed her or even discarded his cloths. Just pinned her to the wall and shoved his pants aside before plunging to her core. The only time his gaze left hers was when she came mouth agape and eyes closing in reaction. His grip on her waist tightened almost brutally as she fell apart around him and dragged him down into the pleasure pang of ecstasy.

When he pulled away, readjusted his trousers, leaving her there on unsteady legs she slid to the floor as she watched him walk out her front door. She hadn't lied when she told him it was hard for her with him. He'd become a complete bastard and usually their encounters left her feeling like his personal whore; at least until those last couple months.

In those last months before Conklin handed Jason the Wombosi assignment she'd noticed little pieces of the old Jason cutting through the hard shell of Jason Bourne, Treadstone Asset. She would come home in the evenings to find him sitting in her darkened living room and he would make the effort to hold a conversation while they shared a meal. Some nights he would take her to bed and they would spend the better part taking and giving pleasure to one another.

The morning he was supposed to board Wambosi's yacht she'd awakened at three in the morning to find Jason standing at the foot of her bed, watching her. He hadn't been in her apartment when she turned in for the night and his presence set off alarm bells in her mind. He was leaving on assignment that day and this was an out of character move. Usually she only saw him in a professional capacity in the weeks preceding an assignment.

_"Jason," she murmured groggily not expecting an answer, "What are you doing?"_

_"I had a dream," his voice was oddly devoid of inflection as he continued. "That you were being chased," he paused and shook his head. "I needed to check on you." The last seemed to have been ripped from his throat as if he hadn't intended to admit that much._

_"I'm safe," she murmured reassuringly as she sat up._

_"Are you," he demanded harshly as he wiped his arm over his face and what little light filtered through her room glinted off the nickel plating of the desert eagle in his hand. "Are you really safe, Nicky?"_

_He knew she'd seen the gun and heard the hitch it put in her breathing. He read confusion and wariness in her eyes so he pressed his advantage. "In my dream you were running for your life. " Moving closer to the bed he ejected the clip, "The person following you wouldn't stop. They were going to kill you." He checked the load and shoved it back into place. "I was chasing you, Nick. I had you in my sights," he leveled the gun at her head._

_She felt very real fear as she looked the man she loved in the eye over his gun barrel. Swallowing she slowly pushed the sheets off and climbed to here knees in the bed before him. "You wouldn't kill me, Jason." What made her so sure she didn't know, because the lord knew he'd mentally and emotionally hurt her enough in the last two years. She doubted he even realized that his primitive, cold use of her mind and body hurt her. _

_"You know what I am," he replied his voice again devoid of emotion. "What I do!"_

_"Yes," she murmured as she lifted a hand to stroke his cheek and let her hand feather his neck to rest on his chest above his heart. "I do, but I've been with you since the beginning. I know you wouldn't kill me." She honestly believed that, too._

_With lightening reflexes he twisted her arm behind her back and she found herself on her stomach pinned beneath Jason's weight. "Do you really," he growled in her ear as he audibly clicked the weapon's safety off._

_Her breathing labored because of his weight on her back she nodded, but didn't speak. _

_"Why?"_

_"I trust you," she murmured._

_The sound of the safety being engaged startled her and she tried to turn over, but the weight of the gun being laid on her back and his quietly spoken, "No", stopped her movement. The bed shifted and dipped as he got up, leaving the desert eagle where it lay. She could hear rustling noises but couldn't see what he was doing because her long blond hair was tangled in her face. When he removed the gun from her back and sat down beside her she slowly shifted to her back and swiped her hair from her face._

_He didn't speak as he stared down at the paper in his hand. His features were so pensive she reached up and stroked her thumb over the crease on his forehead. _

_"Jason?" She asked her eyes searching his face._

_When he met her gaze she could see something almost hopeful in his eyes. It made her heart flutter. Finally after minutes of silence he took her hand and brought the tips of her fingers to his lips._

_She shivered as this small piece of the real Jason Bourne cut through the facade. She barely had time to enjoy the moment as his expression changed again and he leaned in claiming her lips in a demanding, deep kiss. This was a new aspect to their lovemaking in the last few weeks and she had to admit it was something she'd craved for many months. His kisses were all breathtaking and even if he wasn't always gentle and caring like he had been before, she had no doubt that he desired her._

_That morning he was a curious mix of who he once was and who he had become and perhaps she was seeing the man he would be someday soon. His eyes were intent as he pulled back and met her aroused bedroom eyes. He seemed to be waging an internal battle so she reached up and filtered her fingers through the hair at his nape and slowly began to pull him to her, "I trust you," she whispered against his lips as she taunted him with almost kisses. "I-," she nipped his chin. "Trust," she shifted to the left and nipped him again, "You," she claimed his mouth and he covered her softness with his unyielding hardness. They shared open mouth kisses and she refused to close her eyes for fear she would wake up and this would turn into a dream._

When she awoke in the morning sunlight he was gone, but there on the pillow he'd used lay the desert eagle atop the paper from the night before. She'd been startled at first, but then she'd giggled at the idea that this was Jason Bourne's idea of a rose on a pillow. The note had explained that in the last few months he'd begun to build a new identity for her in the event she ever felt her life was in danger, but cautioned her not to use it if she felt he was a danger to her. It advised her to memorize the location as well as the combination and then burn the note.

So, here she was in the Sicilian country side at the foot of Mount Etna where she'd been for the past six weeks waiting. She originally kept moving as Jason instructed her, but after the news bulletin about Black Briar and David Webb n'ee Jason Bourne, she'd hop-scotched her way through Europe. And then in Portugal she'd become Graziella Picaresco and driven the little chinquchinto that had been waiting for her there with the identity Jason set up for her and a map marked with a route to this villa.

Her days were spent painting the walls, resurfacing the tub and silently praying that he would remember. It seemed a futile dream she thought as she turned to her side and drifted to sleep to the sound of rain on the terrazzo floor.


	2. Chapter 2

There At The Beginning, Part 2

Sidnea Blackstone

Rating: ADULT! VERY ADULT…NO KIDS PLEASE.

Warnings: Explicit sexual situations…as in more than one. Bad language…But really after the sex who is going to notice an F-word or two.

Summary: Jason's POV

There At The Beginning, Part 2

He stood watching the sun set on the Ionian Sea; his eyes dark and brooding in the blood-orange light reflected off the now placid water. Not three hours earlier a tempest had churned the waters into a boiling cauldron as it swept onto the shore.

He saw none of it; not the majestic end of the day's light and not the picturesque view of the Sicilian coast, his thoughts were pensive and acrimonious. He'd told Hirsch that he was no longer Jason Bourne, but then he wasn't David Webb either.

David Webb was at best a withered appendage that had been slowly and insidiously eaten away be the canker that was, Jason Bourne. David Webb had been idealistic, light-hearted intensely patriotic and governed by his deep rooted morals. Morals that he now knew had been instilled in him by his church going grandmother.

He remembered, closing his eyes he tried to block out the sweet maternal face of his grandma as she saw him off to boot camp all those years ago.

'You be a good boy and say your prayers,' she patted his face gently, lovingly as tears sprung to her eyes. 'Seems like only yesterday your momma and I were sending your father off to Vietnam.' She smiled and kissed his cheek whispering in his ear, 'They would both be so proud of the man you've become.'

The pain of his own nails digging into his palms brought him out of the past; they sure as hell wouldn't be proud now and his Gran, if she'd lived, would have had him kneeling on rosary beads if she had even an inkling of what he'd become. That thought startled a laugh from him even as his throat clogged and his heart gave a twinge.

It had been doing that a lot lately. His body having been tightly wound for so long was not handling the duality of his personality well at all. Jason was a cold hearted bastard that seemed to have no remorse for what he'd done and David couldn't seem to reconcile the oily film of indifference that seemed to cling to all his thoughts.

He literally had no fucking idea who he was! Oh, he had his memories both good and bad; Jason and David, but the immutable facts were that he didn't want to be Jason Bourne and David Webb was a broken husk of a man. Who the hell was he? He wished he knew.

The bump of the fishing boat as it docked at the pier pulled him from his internal battle. Looking up he watched as the sailors laughed and greeted the fish handlers on the dock. With nary a word he turned and made his way off the boat.

The rain had done little but add humidity to the still oppressive heat of the day and the pungent smells of the sea, fish and humanity tickled his nose as he made his way to a pharmacy. Where he purchased a few supplies and a ticket on the autobus to Catania.

Sicily was a great place to get lost in because it not only catered to American tourists but it also housed a rather large U.S. military base. One more American wouldn't send up any flags and as long as he stayed the hell out of Motta the chances were slim that anyone would recognize him, if they were still canvassing the world for him.

The bus was full of costumed young Italian students making there way home from school and revelers heading to Catania to celebrate. Tomorrow was Halloween and the graveyards would be full tonight with families preparing departed loved ones to move on. All in all it was a very busy Saturday for the small island.

It was a relatively short bus ride along the coast and soon he found himself on a sidewalk outside another pharmacy staring across the street at an ornate cathedral set behind a small piazza that was called simply, 'The Elephant Square' by the American contingent because of the elephant gracing a statue in the center.

He felt drawn to the cathedral. David awash in guilt over all of Jason's deeds was clawing at him to go inside, find the confessional and release every blood soaked deed in search of absolution, but he wasn't David. Straightening his shoulders he made his way to a small warehouse hidden amongst brick store fronts and the occasional gated residence.

Taking the key from his pack he swiftly unlocked the gate and then the door. He'd purchased this building three years ago when he'd been sent to Rome for an assignment. In the course of his surveillance the target led him on a tour via automobile of Southern Italy and Sicily. He'd spent two nights on the island, but he hadn't reported it to Conklin or even Nicky for that matter.

'Nicky,' his mind roared to life. Both Bourne and Webb remembered Nicky she'd been a bright memory for David, sweet, intelligent and loving. Jason remembered her as well, but his memories were more dark and exceedingly primitive.

The things they'd done with her, to her tightened his stomach muscles with aberrant need. As David playing Jason he'd wooed her with gentle stroking fingers and with sliding, fluttering kisses he'd made love to her. He could remember now the fresh, lemon scented cotton sheet as it slithered over his skin with each thrust he made into her tight body. He'd been her first and he'd held her tightly as he murmured his pleasure and sip-kissed her tears from her check as he watched her recover from pleasure's sharp sting.

Jason hadn't been nearly as kind to her, and save for the fact that she'd always given herself to him willingly it might have been considered rape, in fact the way he used her after he'd become Bourne mocked her previous innocence. Aimed to destroy her trust in him and worked to harden his new persona. She'd held on to him even when she would have been better served to let him go.

Opening another door he found the ugly orange fiat fiori he'd stored here so many months ago and unlocked it, the old door creaking loudly as he got in and slammed it. Pushing his head forcibly against the headrest he tried to stop the flood of memories, but it was no use. Having worked so hard to regain them they could not be muted or blanked out.

He stalked her after each mission. It was the only way he could cope with the down time and all the adrenalin pumping through his veins after a job was complete. He never took her where Conklin might find out, because he didn't like the bastard thinking he had something to use against him. He was invisible; trained to get in, do the job and get out again. He figured if he couldn't get laid without half of Europe finding out he was a piss poor asset.

The first time, he'd waited in her apartment, in the dark. Watched her undress and get into the shower. He'd ordered her to him and then fucked her against the wall. There was nothing pretty about that night except maybe her large eyes loosing focus as she came around him.

He had lost track of how many months this went on, but he remembered the day it had changed for him. The day that David began to chip away at Jason. There had been an incident during one of her debriefs and when Jason had seen the bruise on her cheek his whole body clenched. Someone had touched her; marking her. Someone, not him.

I "Who touched you," he demanded as he sat across from her desk and her eyes widened at the overtly possessive tone he was using. Jason never said anything to her in the office other than work related things.

"It doesn't matter," she informed him and continued with his debrief as though he hadn't spoken. That made him angry, she was protecting the bastard that hit her. She was his and no one else's. He didn't hit her and he would be damned if the man who did would be breathing tomorrow. /I

He sat quietly, finishing his session but when he left he waited and followed her home. When she unlocked the door he left the shadows and ushered her into the tiny apartment. He remembered that he hadn't been the only one confused by the gentle way he'd grasped her elbow and propelled her into the apartment, it was at enmity with his usual callus handling of her.

That night when he touched her it was gently; when he took her it had been in her lemon scented bed not against the wall or bent over the kitchen counter. That night he realized the love cloaked in pain that seemed to be ever present in her eyes and it touched something deep inside him. It touched the ephemeral remnants of David Webb.

Not long after that he had found himself in Sicily and without rhyme or reason he began to build identities for himself and Nicky. Jason called himself a fool he didn't even know if she'd want to leave with him one day, but David seemed certain that when he left Nicky would follow.

That was something he never looked too closely at, the idea that he would leave Treadstone. He was internally convinced that he would and it felt like it would be soon. Jason ever the asset set about doing general reconnaissance of Nicky and her life. The day he was supposed to board Wambosi's yacht he'd found himself driven to her bed.

Jason wasn't completely comfortable with his overwhelming need for Nicky and had reacted predictably like an ass. He tried to force her to flee him; to loath his presence and fear his touch, but she was Nicky. She knew what he was truly asking with the gun to her head.

"You know what I am," he replied his voice taking on the monotone he used to disassociate from those he spoke to. "What I do!"

"Yes," she murmured as she traced his features lovingly and her gentleness stung him to the core of his soul. She deserved better than a man that used her body and couldn't remember what the word love meant. "I do, but I've been with you since the beginning. I know you wouldn't kill me." She honestly believed that and he hoped to hell she never regretted those words.

With lightening reflexes he twisted her arm behind her back and pinned her to the bed on her stomach. She was wearing a short gown that had fallen to mid thigh, but now it was bunched between them and the creamy expanse of thigh and the soft swell of her ass threatened to break his concentration and deviate from the plan to frighten her away. "Do you really," he growled through gritted teeth as the smell of warm lemons and Nicky filled his senses. With determination he removed the safety from the gun making sure she heard.

Her breathing labored and she pressed her bottom ever so subtly against his hard length as she nodded, but didn't speak.

"Why?" Jason was confused as hell by her steadfast belief that he wouldn't hurt her. What did he have to do to push her to the breaking point.

"I trust you," she murmured.

Stunned he engaged the safety and lay the weapon on the small of her back as he whispered, "No," when she would have turned over. It was that moment that he decided this would be the last assignment and that he and Nicky would become whoever they had to, to escape this fucked up life they were living.

He got off the bed and instantly missed the warm softness that had cradled him. Not sure if he was sane or not he found a piece of paper and wrote down everything Nicky would need to escape detection as she entered a new life; hopefully with him. Looking back at the bed she was laying perfectly still just as he'd asked her to; what kind of trust did that take?

Sitting down beside her he stared hard at his handwriting, no frills just concisely written instructions. He let his hand skim up her thigh, over her bottom and then he grasped the weapon lifting its weight from her slight frame. She'd turned over then, but he couldn't meet her gaze.

The feel of her gently caressing thumb brought his eyes to hers and for the first time they were not filled with pain filled love; they seemed hopeful and almost happy. Some part of him remembered what it was like to love and be loved and without conscious thought he brought her fingertips to his lips.

Her breathing hitched and her eyes widened displaying her awareness of him and that quick he felt the need that had driven him to her bed resurface. Leaning into her he claimed her lips in a deep kiss that vied to fill her senses with nothing but him. In swift sure movements he removed the thin white gown from her body and allowed his lips, tongue and teeth to journey freely over her body.

When he nipped her left breast and watched it tighten he knew this time it would be about her pleasure and not his need. Latching onto the turgid point he watched her head writhe on the pillow. Situating himself between her bare thighs he slid downward licking, biting and sucking at her flat belly.

She looked confused as he continued his trek until he could lay his cheek against her thigh. Lifting her hand to his lips again he kissed her palm before placing it between her legs. "Jason," she gasped frightened and confused as he guided her fingers to spread her lower lips.

"Trust me, Nick, I won't hurt you," he assured her as he closed his eyes and let the flat of his tongue slide through her folds and rasp against her sensitive bundle of nerves. The keening cry that escaped her throat was the sweetest sound he'd heard in a very long time.

He took his time, slowly sending her into spasms of pleasure. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably and her verbalization was reduced to moans and breathy pleas as she painfully gripped his hair and ears simultaneously pulling him closer and pushing him away. Nicky panted trying to assimilate the pleasure he was giving her. When he let his teeth rasp over her sensitive nub she arched up off the bed and came with an astonished roar.

Jason crawled up her body to kneel between her trembling thighs. He was met with her forceful open mouthed kiss as he pushed his body deeply into her still quaking core setting off another wave of intense feeling within her.

The blaring of a car horn outside pulled him from his reverie and he cursed his aching hardness. His senses sharpened as he pushed a button on the dash and watched the warehouse door begin to rumble upward. With his memories came the feelings and with the feelings came the desires he'd managed to forget for the last two years.

Looking out into the streets of Catania he put the car in first and pulled out into the crowded street heading for Valle Currenta and he hoped absolution.


	3. Chapter 3

There At The Beginning, Part 3

Sidnea Blackstone

Rating: Adult Only

Warnings: Bad language…

Summary: How can Jason and Nicky move on from what happened in the past? So many decisions, so many choices and happenstance between who they once were and who they have become.

Author's Note: Jason/David just doesn't play fair…I had this grand plan for this part and my Jason/David muse wouldn't let it simply be what I wanted it to be…So, this is an amalgamation of three different versions of this chapter. One was in Jason/David's POV, the second in Nicky's POV and the third was smut. This is what they became.

There At The Beginning, Part 3

Nicky jerked awake; fear slamming into her as the flutter of the curtains and the hot breeze kissed her sweat dampened skin. She'd fallen asleep and from the darkness in the room she must have slept at least four hours. It had been months since she'd slept that thoroughly and for once it hadn't been a nightmare that awakened her. She lay on her belly, eyes closed as she pondered finally getting sleep. She'd been dead to the world.

Then she felt it, the tell tail pricking of the hairs on the back of her neck, she was being watched. Her first instinct was to jump up, but her better sense quickly took control. Instead she shifted lazily as though she were only changing position; slowly sliding her hand toward the Desert Eagle on the nightstand.

Her hand had only gone an inch or two when she felt a heavy weight deposited at the base of her spine. Nicky gasped and her eyes flew open to meet the stern gaze of Jason Bourne. Predictably he was leaning against the nightstand with a Makarov PM negligently in his right hand.

Stretching her arm behind her back she grasped the warm weight of her gun and pushed herself up to sit in the center of the mattress. Nicky didn't speak; she simply watched him with solemn eyes. She could tell he was unhappy with the way he'd found her, but what could she say, it wasn't as though she'd fallen asleep on purpose.

When he shifted his gaze to the gun in his hand and then the floor she took a moment to study his stern features. He looked sad. He looked almost as demoralized as he had that day in Berlin.

"I didn't think you'd come," she murmured as she slowly slid from the bed and padded barefoot across the room and slowly closed the window and lowering the persiana. Methodically she closed each window and the balcony door; the only noise in the room was the metallic groan of the locks sliding into place and the whir of the tight persiana straps as the heavy metal barrier slid down blocking out the natural light.

Her self appointed task completed she turned to look at the unmoving man, who seemed content to ignore her statement. Sighing heavily she crossed her arms over her chest, the Desert Eagle firmly pressed to her chest under her left breast. Shaking her head she leaned back against the smooth glass surface of the door. She was tired; not literally but figuratively. "Why are you here Jason?"

She watched as his head jerked up as though he'd forgotten she was there with him, but then he looked down and shook his head, "I…I don't know."

Nicky felt her throat tighten with emotion and her eyes burned with this new hurt. Closing her eyes she laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound, it was the sound of sorrow and was tinged with loss. "Well, what the fuck do you know," she demanded as she opened her eyes to meet his startled gaze.

His eyes hardened and he fingered the Makarov in his hands. Obviously he hadn't expected her to react with anger and that was too damned bad because neither had she. When she thought about this moment, when and if it came, it was always the fairytale, never once had she expected the anger that slowly bubbled to life within her at his answer.

Jason thrust himself to his feet, tossed the Makarov to the bedside table and stalked across the room. Nicky gulped a little afraid of the intense look in his eyes and pressed her self more tightly to the glass at her back. When he grasped her upper arms and slowly slid his fingers over her flesh she was surprised by the gentleness he employed.

Stepping closer to her, his intent unfathomable, he bowed his head so that his warm breath skimmed her cheek and his lips brushed against her hair as he whispered, "I know I met you in Washington, D.C. and I loved the way you smelled." His hands slid back up her arms and the backs of his fingers grazed her breasts. "I know that bed over there was our bed and I know it was a fucking logistical nightmare arranging for the movers and deliverymen to arrive at exactly two in the afternoon the day after I left on the yacht."

She trembled as he shifted his fingers across the tight buds beneath the thin cotton of her dress, "I know the feel of my tongue sliding over your nipples and I know the throaty little sound you make in the back of your throat when I bite just hard enough to mark you." Nicky took a shuttering breath arching her back involuntarily as he caught the aroused tip between his thumb and forefinger. "I know," he dipped his head forward and flicked his tongue over the throbbing pulse point at the side of her neck. "I know I made love to you in that bed for the first time the night before I started my 'training', and God, I know what you taste like when you come, how it feels when I'm inside you."

"Jason," she stuttered, tears slipping unheeded from her eyes, as he suddenly raked his hands down her sides and over the swell of her bottom before he grasped her thighs and pulled her legs up to wrap around his hips. Vaguely she thought about protesting but she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal through her panties and his jeans and her body betrayed her with it's desire.

"I know," he murmured as he shifted his hips from side to side burrowing into the cradle of her thighs. "That even as fucked up as I am," he leaned back so he could meet her heavy lidded gaze. "As god damned angry as you are," he bit her lower lip when his thrusting hips forced a gasp from her lips. "As much as I have hurt you these last two years you would still let me do what ever the hell I wanted to you; what I don't know is why."

Nicky wanted to deny it, but she couldn't because her thighs were wrapped around his grinding hips and her panties soaked with desire. She was as fucked up as Jason she realized when the tension started building in her belly with each thrust. "Why do you let me use you, Nicky?"

Why did she what!? A red haze of anger settled over her mind and she struggled to be free of his hold, "Let me go," She demanded when his grasp only tightened.

"No," he refused.

She was tired of not getting what she wanted. Everyday of these last six years she'd made choices that she hated all for him; all so that she could show him that she loved him no matter what he'd become. But he hadn't understood that while he was busy fucking her, she'd been making love to him.

"Put me down, Jason." she whispered through clenched teeth and a tear clogged throat.

"Not until you answer my question," his voice became loud as he demanded. "Tell me why, Nicky!"

"Put me down!" She raged, angry and frustrated with him she tossed her head backward and slammed her balled fists into the door behind her shattering the glass. The sound barely registered be for he whirled her away from the door and had her pinned between him and the bed.

Jason was shocked at Nicky's outburst, but the shattering of the glass behind her brought out his ingrained instincts and he moved quickly pinning a bucking, kicking and screaming Nicky to the lemon scented mattress.

Struggling against her, he finally got control of her by clamping his legs around hers, trapping her kicking feet under his and gripping her wrists in one tight fist, though she continued to buck ineffectually against him, as he tossed her gun aside and checked her hands for cuts.

Finding nothing he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her shoulder. God he'd been afraid she hurt herself and it wrenched his heart. The fucking crazy thing about this whole situation was that the Jason part of him seemed to understand why she'd always allowed him to take what he wanted from her. Jason was a predator and Nicky's submission was that of a predator's mate.

The fucking David part of him wanted to look down on her for giving herself over to his demanding appetites so freely. David that couldn't understand it's meaning. David that pined for Marie. Breathing deeply Jason sighed into her shoulder.

It was only after she'd frozen, her body going limp, that he realized he had sighed Marie's name against her shoulder. The fine trembling of muscles under her skin told him that he had hurt her yet again and when he shifted to look down at her, she turned her face aside, her eyes tightly closed while salty tears leaked from under her lashes.

He wanted to say he was sorry, explain it wasn't him that had spoken, but he couldn't because for better or for worse he was both men. After the training he became Jason Bourne and he forced the part of himself that was David into a box. While he became the hunter and the killer. He changed, but Nicky, Nicky was the only constant in his life.

He understood now that while he searched for his past he had been more like David than he'd been since the training. Not knowing who he was or what he'd done he latched onto Marie needing human contact.

Closing his eyes he realized that, that man wasn't the real David seeking to find out his identity. The real David had become Jason Bourne, assassin, there wasn't two distinct men vying for control. It had been David Webb that loved Marie, but he wasn't real, and Jason Bourne...Well, Jason Bourne loved Nicky in his own fucked up way.

"I'm sorry, Nick." He whispered as he released her and slid to rest at her side stroking her hair. "So, sorry, baby."

Gathering her gently into his arms he continued to sift his fingers through her hair and murmur apologies against her tear streaked flesh. "Forgive me," he begged as he nuzzled her neck, cheek and hair.

After some time she lay silent, asleep in the circle of his arms and he found he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. As he drifted of to sleep he had one clear thought in his mind, and that was that no matter how long it took he would make up for all the pain he'd caused this woman. He loved her and she was worth penance.


	4. Chapter 4

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lj-cut text="Broken Pieces: Meshed"

Jason shifted lazily as he came awake and pulled the warm weight tighter to his side. Breathing deeply he buried his nose in Nicky's sleep tousled hair as he opened his eyes in the still darkened room. The muffled sounds of bleating sheep and cattle bells could be heard through the tightly closed persiana's, along with the melodic calls of the herder as he guided his sheep into the valley below the villa.

He was stunned he had slept so soundly and for so long. He'd arrived at the villa about eight and estimated they had fallen asleep around nine. Since he closed his eyes last night they hadn't moved; Nick was still cradled in his arms her face buried in his shirt front. The soft whisper of her breath warming his chest and the dampness of his shirt was now more likely caused by her slack jawed sleep than by the tears he had ripped from her soul the night before.

Jason absently traced circles on her shoulder as he savored this quiet time with her; letting his mind wonder to the fact that he'd never once slept so well with Marie; never lingered with her when he had awakened from sleep. Not to mention that he'd been unable to allow her to cuddle so close while they slept. Her hand on him had been all he could comfortably stand. He'd told himself that it was because he needed to be able to move in a moments notice, but he wondered now if somewhere deep down he'd known about Nicky.

In Paris when Marie brought up the possibility of a wife he'd quickly denied such a thought; had even voiced the denial to Marie, but as he thought about it now and remembered the piercing fear that clawed at him and the instinctual need to protect that had prompted his quick answer he realized he'd known all along about Nicky. She hadn't been his wife yet, but he'd claimed her as his, a paper certificate couldn't have made it any truer than that.

After all, papers could be faked and the hold he had on her body and soul could not. He almost snorted at the fucking romantic notions his brain had begun to formulate, but he didn't because as fucking emotional as the thought was, it was true. True and reciprocated. He was just as surely hers.

Nicky's sleepy voice murmured his name and she pressed her lips to his chest as she awoke. He knew the moment she remembered last night because her body tensed and she tried to pull away, but he wouldn't allow her to escape his hold. He couldn't help but smile when she met his gaze with a glare, ruined by the imprint his shirt button and creases left on the side of her face. Unable to resist he let his thumb brush over the slightly marred skin of her cheek.

He saw pleasure in her eyes before Nicky closed them enjoying the gentle stroking of his thumb along her jaw, but when they opened again the sadness was back. "Jason," she sighed and moved to get up from the bed.

"No," he pulled her back to him and disentangled himself from her. "The floor," he indicated the glass strewn floor. "Your feet are bare…I'll clean it up." He pointed to his still shod feet and gave a lopsided grin that had always seemed to make her bend to his will before he'd forgotten how to be that gentle man.

She watched him with her solemn brown eyes, but she stayed in the bed as he worked. He had finally gotten the last of the glass up with a damp towel and she actually found comfort in his precise movements as he completed the task with military thoroughness. When he came back into the room after discarding the broom and dustbin she watched as he pulled the belt raising the persiana. The heavy shield was only two-thirds of the way up when he froze standing stock still.

Fear lanced through her and she was off the bed and at his back in seconds, "Jason? What is it," she asked her voice trailing off as she peered around him into the bloody-orange sky of another Sicilian sunset. "It's nightfall." She whispered, stating the obvious. "That isn't possible."

Jason was inclined to agree, but the evidence was fading into purple night as the crest of the sun sank beyond the horizon. "I haven't slept that well since…', he trailed off and turned his expression filled eyes on her.

"Marie," she murmured and lowered her head ashamed to hate a dead woman, but hate was the least of her crimes. She turned and started for the door, "I'm going to shower."

Jason frowned as he listened to her and before she'd taken one step he'd swung her around to face him as he leaned in and whispered fiercely, "I haven't slept that well since I left your bed for Wambosi's yacht. I only ever slept like that with you." He spun her to look at the night that had fallen. "Nearly twenty hours, Nick, we slept for an entire day!"

Nicky could hear the happiness that radiated from deep inside him and when he pulled her back, hugging her into his body she joined his fingers with hers and let her head rest on his shoulder. Nicky was a quiet person as was Jason, but she couldn't quiet the question that sprang to her lips, "Didn't…I mean you l-loved Marie…Didn't you sleep?"

Jason's arms tightened around her at the mention of Marie's name, but he didn't pull away as she thought he might. Instead he buried his nose in her hair and let his lips glide over the nape of her neck before he spoke. "I would only sleep a few hours…Sometimes only minutes at a time." She could hear the frown in his voice as he continued, "I just couldn't let my guard down…Even for her…Nicky…I…"

She was startled when he turned her in his arms to face him and framed her face with his strong, steady hands. "I can't take back what happened…The things I've done these last two years, but I can say I wish I could. I would change so many things…Marie, she was…I did love her…I guess, but deep down I knew it wasn't real what I had with her."

He watched as tears filled her expressive brown eyes and threatened to fall and found his throat clogging and his chest tightening as he continued, "I always felt something wasn't right, that I was trying to protect some part of me that was missing and Marie was a means to an end…In my fucked up thinking I cared, but it was more out of convenience I guess. She needed me and I needed her and we just sort of ended up living this fucked up life that she hated. Marie never understood what I am…She played it off as though it was somehow heroic or altruistic, but she was starting to understand by the time we got to Goa. I think she was frightened of what I was capable of and she thought she could change me, but you and I Nick, we know that who we are and what I can do will never change."

Nicky listened to the things he said and the brittle wall she'd built without even knowing it crumbled down around them. With a sobbing breath she pulled him to her in a fierce hug as she admitted, "I was so frightened at first and then the reports about you and her came over the lines and I was so angry. It hurt…You left me behind and I could only watch the whole fucked up scenario unfold."

His arms tightened around her as he murmured his apologies, "I'm sorry, Nick."

Nicky pulled away from his embrace and met his gaze, "I'll forgive you…On one condition." She felt Jason tense, but he didn't pull away from her. Instead he nodded for her to continue with her conditions. "Never leave me behind again," she pleaded. "I can take almost anything else, but not living this fucked up life without you."

Jason felt the tightness in his chest ease and relief flood through him. Bending he claimed her mouth with his and whispered in a choked voice, "I promise, Nick, I promise!"


	5. Chapter 5

Nicky gasped, eyes closed and arched her back as the cold water cascaded over her body. The sun had set and apparently she and Jason had slept the entire day away, but it was still hot as hell. They'd shared a breakfast/dinner and then she had announced that she needed a shower. She felt sticky from sweat. It was so hot last night and because of the soaring temperature and being pressed against Jason she positively reeked.

Unable to bring her self to take a hot or even lukewarm shower she'd opted for straight cold from the tap and her body was both shocked and pleased with the bracing flow over her skin, which prickled with goose flesh and her nipples pebbled to hard nubbins.

After a few moments enjoyment she opened her eyes and reached for the lemon scented body gel, that she thought she would never see again. Nicky marveled every time she bathed with the gel since arriving at the villa; Jason had thought of everything that was for sure. She'd left Morocco without her bath set, she'd used this scent for as long as she could remember because it reminded her of beautiful summer days and her mother.

It had been painful to realize that she couldn't order any more of the distinctive fragrance, but when she'd arrived at the villa she'd been shocked to find their bed, her books and three cases of the Lemon-scented products.

All three cases had been shipped to Signora Graziella Picaresco, and arrived one case a year over the last two and a half years. The first was postmarked just four months before Jason had gone off the grid during the Wombosi assignment. When the third case arrived it was shortly after Nicky arrived and she'd been fearful until she saw the elderly woman fumbling with the box that was obviously too heavy. Nicky had hurried out to help the woman and been met with a warm Italian double kiss in greeting. Mina was glad she had finally gotten to meet Davide's Graziella.

Jason had chosen his name seemingly at random but Nicky realized that day, after speaking to Mina that until the Wombosi incident Jason had known his name was David Webb before the training and it wasn't until he suffered a mental break that he'd forgotten his true identity.

For a while she'd worried that he hadn't been himself during their time in Paris, that he had literally become Jason Bourne forgetting all else and just perceived that she was his for the taking and decided to take. Mina had dispelled that notion.

Somehow it was comforting to know he hadn't just seen her as an easy lay…Though she was that where he was concerned she admitted with a snort of rueful amusement. Turning and rinsing the last of the suds from her hair she turned the knobs and with a grown and the knock of protesting pipes the water stopped.

Pushing the sliding door aside she froze. Jason was standing against the wall in the darkened hall and her mind flashed to a similar situation in which they'd found themselves. He wore the same burning look as he allowed his eyes to trace over her naked body, but there was no command to go to him.

Instead he shoved away from the wall and stalked into the dimly lit room to stand mere inches from her and bent his head to hers. She could feel the brush of his lips against her ear as he whispered firmly, "Turn around."

Nicky complied instantly her belly fluttering and her secret parts warming at the torrid thoughts that slipped through her mind as she met the eyes of Jason in the mirror over the sink. She'd seen that predatory look in his eyes many times before and if possible her goose flesh got gooseflesh at the thought of the hard, wanton sex that gaze promised.

Nicky gasped, her eyes closing when he finally touched her. His hands were hot and slick as they smoothed over her back and shoulders. She could smell warmed lemons as his fingers traced up her neck and then down her arms. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze as she realized Jason was completing her bath-time ritual.

His hands disappeared and then were once again smoothing hotly up her sides over her full breasts, which he kneaded, his eyes burning as he continued to hold her gaze. When his fingers left her breasts to move independently in opposite directions she gasped, her mouth falling open and her eyes begging for more.

Some might think this was the gentle David side of him making love to her, but Nicky knew that this was Jason the Alpha male staking his claim, imprinting her anew with himself. In nature mated pairs groomed each other, the male rewarding his mate's submission with play and gentle dominance. Nicky could see how this worked in the male's favor especially since having Jason pamper her was turning her into a molten puddle at his feet.

Jason disappeared from view and she felt his lips and nose brush her bottom as his hands slide up the outside of her legs to her hips and then shift and smooth down the fronts to her feet before curling to journey upward skimming the inside of her calf, knee and thighs and she was shaking with need as he bit

the swell of her ass where it met her thigh. With a needy sound she spread her legs, a silent plea for his invasion.

Nicky began to tremble anew as he continued to stroke her everywhere except where she needed him. "Jason," she pleaded as once again his lips and tongue marked her thigh. She could imagine the red marks his teeth made in her pale flesh and it made her burn. God, she loved the primal side she harbored deep inside herself; it was what had drawn her to Jason Bourne that night in Washington. Even then he was an Alpha male.

His true nature, to be so good at being bad had been carefully hidden under the kind-hearted façade, but she'd seen it, the same as he'd seen it in her. He'd spent the entire night, while they wooed politicians and their wives, touching her in seeming innocent ways, but she'd known it was anything but innocence that had his finger nails raking up her bare back along her spine. It was a carnal invitation to a woman he had only just met. She was surprised she'd held him at bay for an extremely long and torturous three weeks before she submitted herself to him.

After only one passion-filled night she had been lost to any other man. He had marked her body with his teeth, her heart with love and her soul with his. From the minute he pushed deep inside her making her innocence bleed for him, she was his.

Lost in memories as she was when Jason finally slid his hands upward, his fingers spreading, stroking, penetrating she cried out as she came. Her legs no longer able to hold her she fell forward and caught the black marble countertop with her hands as she heaved for breath. Her inner muscles were still contracting around his long fingers and she thought she might pass out from the thought of what was still to come.

Pressing her cheek to the cold stone she tried to recover from her pleasure, it had been so long. She had needed him for so long this wasn't enough, she needed more. Nicky could hear his ragged breathing behind her, but she couldn't lift her head. When he moved up her body and impaled her with one quick thrust her eyes widened and she pushed her bottom more fully into his hips. "Yes," she growled through gritted teeth. Jason knew just what she needed, he was here and he would take care of her.

His fingers still buried between her thighs pressed and plucked at her clit wringing unintelligible sounds from her lips as his thrusting hips, pushed hard against her, rocking her body forward Pushing her chest over the marble as she shifted her arms to brace themselves on the counter. Lifting her head finally to meet Jason's gaze in the mirror, her nipples catching the smooth surface and rubbing into tight peaks, she pleaded with him silently to go deeper, harder.

She watched as his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. With a growl he pulled nearly out of her quivering sex before he slammed deep so hard her sweaty hands slipped and her head hit the mirror. "Yes," she moaned uncaring that she hadn't adjusted her grasp and his next thrust had her head bumping the mirror again.

Jason growled again low in his throat and then one of his hands left the burrow of her thighs and wrapped across her chest and around her shoulder arching her back to rest against his chest as he continued to deliver powerful thrusts between her thighs. This new position had her pushed onto her toes with each penetration and soon she felt the build up of her bodies pleasure centering on the place he was buried so deliciously, breathlessly she gasped pressing her head back exposing her throat to him as she throbbed around him. His biting, licking kiss along her neck prolonged the moment and distracted her from his stillness. When she finally took note of something other than her clutching pleasure she found him hard and swollen still buried within her.

Experimentally she clenched her inner muscles and giggled at the growl it evoked from the man in the mirror as he tossed his head back and bit painfully on his bottom lip as he tried to control his need to slam into her until his seed filled the deepest part of her. He stilled her attempts to push him over the edge with biting fingers on her hips and a grated, "No," from his lips.

Confused she started to speak, but he silenced her when the hand between her thighs slowly slid to her knee and then lifted it along her body. Jason knew she was flexible, he'd seen the photos of her ballet performances and her eyes widened as he pressed her leg to the side of her body.

Without a word of warning he pulled nearly out of her and then shifted her until she was now facing a fully clothed Jason, on the toes of one foot, with her left leg draped over his right elbow. She blinked at him owlishly as her brain caught up with this new position.

Nicky hadn't even know it was possible to complete such a maneuver and the shock had nearly stopped her heart, but damned if it wasn't a fucking fine way to go. Jason gave her a cocky grin as he pulled her close and lifted her other leg from the floor, "Liked where I was," he explained as he carried her back into the bedroom and laid her across the bed as he simply pressed deep, without moving.

Sliding his hands up her sides and down her arms he twined his fingers with his, before stretching them over her head to grasp the wrought iron headboard. Dutifully she grasped the metal, even though it was a stretch from her position. She watched as he lifted himself so that he rested on one arm and watched his other hand gliding slowly, reverently over her skin.

It was an incredibly poignant moment, watching him reverence her body. "I dreamed of this," he murmured not meeting her eyes as he frowned and stroked his fingers over her breast, softly flicking the aroused bud with his thumb, before he focused on her face and the hand fingered her hair. "After I saw you with Landy and demanded you meet with me…I dreamed of you stretched naked under me, and you were telling me that you trusted me, you looked sad and your hair…It was long and blond. The way it was in Paris the night I broke into the Treadstone safe house. That was a memory wasn't it?"

Nicky began to tremble as she nodded, "Yes," she whispered.

"You didn't trust me in that train station," he murmured as he ran his thumb over her lips and down the side of her neck to rest on her pulse point.

"I always trusted you, Jason." She sighed the words as she lifted her head and kissed his chin. "I was wired and everything we said was being recorded. If I hadn't convinced Landy and the others that I was frightened as hell of you, it would have put us both in danger."

"I was angry," he met her trusting, open gaze. "I thought I was betraying Marie with thoughts of you, but all along I was betraying you with Marie."

His words brought tears to her eyes but she didn't let them fall. "I knew you were angry…I was, too." She let go of the headboard and brought her hands to his face and then down to his neck pressing her fingers to his pulse points. She knew the reason he'd rested his fingers to her pulse, it was the same reason she'd done the same. "Was I lying," she asked quietly and his fingers flexed only slightly betraying his surprise that she'd known what he was doing.

"No," he shook his head.

Nodding solemnly she asked quietly, "Are you still angry that I'm under you and not Marie?"

The question startled Jason and if he hadn't been taught to hide every emotion by rigorous training he might have reacted, but he was trained and though his heart rate spiked he met her eyes and held them as he thought about the question. Was he sorry she was here, spread so provocatively before him, "Hell no!" His denial was firm and brooked no contradiction.

Nicky focused on his pulse as he spoke and then she smiled and pushed her fingers through his hair satisfied he hadn't lied to her. Her trusting nature unnerved Jason. Marie had always tried to project trust when she dealt with him, but she had on more than one occasion backed away or gotten that frightened deer in the headlights look in her eyes.

"Why do you trust me, Nick?" He couldn't understand how she could have seen what he became. Known what he did and live through all he'd put her through and still trust him.

"Do you trust me, Jason?" She asked instead of answering right away.

He was taken aback at her turning the question to him, but answered honestly none the less, "Yes."

With a beatific smile she slipped the shirt over his head and wrapped her legs around his waist pressing her palms to his chest, wordlessly asking him to give her control over his body. Jason relented his dominate position and Nicky's smile turned naughty as she pushed herself until she was kneeling astride him. Leaning back with her hands on his jean clad thighs she admonished, "You have too many cloths on."

"It doesn't seem to be hindering me in anyway," he smirked as he thrust his hips upward and forced a moan from her lips. Just like that their serious discussion was over and his body's desire flooded back into the forefront of his mind.

"Mmmm…" she hummed, biting her lip as he nudged her womb. Realizing her momentary dominance was at stake she forced her self to pull away from his wonderfully thick member and out of his hands reach as he protested, "Hey!"

"Uhnhuh," she wiggled herself down until she was astride his knees. "I want you naked," she informed him primly as she grasped the waist of his jeans and pulled them down and off. She feasted her eyes on the naked man before her and unconsciously licked her lips making him groan as she met his eyes.

"In all the time we spent together you had me anyway you wanted me," she slid her palms up his thighs and stretched out until she lay between them, her mouth hovering over the bobbing swollen flesh of his manhood. "You took my virginity," she smiled archly as she stroked her cheek along the length of him and whispered, "You made love to me slow that night, tenderly."

"Oh, God!" He groaned and grasped her shoulders, but she shrugged them off before saying with a commanding voice, "It's your turn to grasp the bars Jason."

Swallowing he did as she told him, but she could tell his submission was minimal at best. If she had any hope of staying in control long enough to complete her self-assigned task she'd have to get to it. "You fucked my against the wall," she ran her tongue from the root of his cock to the head frowning a bit at the taste of herself on him, but it wasn't as unpleasant as she might have thought. It was sexy as hell knowing he tasted like her, smelled of her.

"You fucked me bent over the counter in the kitchen, like a whore in the back alley behind that little café on Rue de Rivoli in Paris. On my knees in the hall, from behind in the shower and that last night you made fucking love to me with your mouth until I screamed your name and thought I had died." Shivering with remembered delight Nicky stroked her hands up his thighs and one cradled his heavy balls as the other grasped his cock in a tight grip angling it so that she could suckle the head with her lips and tongue.

"But not once did you ever let me have my way with you," she met his fevered gaze as she opened her lips and took him in her mouth wiggling her hips and pulling her knees under her so that she was balanced above him.

She'd never used her mouth for this and she was sure he could tell, but she could also tell that her lack of knowledge, her innocent use of her mouth and tongue, just made it all the more excruciatingly pleasurable for him. It took her a few strokes before she had the courage to press him farther into the back of her throat and once she did she accidentally discovered that swallowing pulled him deeper.

It startled them both, she fought the urge to gag and his eyes slammed shut as he fought the urge to thrust deeper. Realizing he had enjoyed the pull of her throat muscles she worked it into the rhythm she'd set; tighten her fist around the root, slide up, suckle hard on the tip, slide down and swallow.

Her lips, tongue and neck were beginning to tire, but she refused to stop before he came. "Stop, God Nick…Please…I'm gonna…" So focused on her task was she that she didn't hear his pleading voice as she slid down his swelling member again and swallowed.

Jason lost his battle to stay still as he came deep in her throat; his hips lifting off the mattress as she drank him down. Jason realized his eyes were closed and God damn it he needed to watch her swallow, opening his eyes he caught her startled gaze as she pulled away from him all the while sucking every thing he could pour into her and swallowing.

She'd been startled, but pleasantly so, as his seed coated the back of her throat. It was incredibly sensual having that kind of power over his body. When she'd had all he could give she pulled away her aching lips forming a satisfied smile, "Thank you," she murmured as she slid up along his body to press herself to every inch of him.

With unreadable eyes Jason tangled his hands in her hair and brought her mouth to his for a burning kiss that promised he had plans for her.

"My turn," he growled as he flipped their positions and lay a trail of biting, licking kissed down her neck to her breasts and then lower marking his path with his teeth. Nicky was startled as he bit the indention of her waist and she laughed huskily as he laved the ticklish spot with his tongue before claiming her nether lips in a searing, deep kiss.

They wouldn't be moving from the bed for a long, long time. In fact as the sun came up the next morning they lay sleeping their bodies tangled together, wonderfully exhausted and their hearts free of worry or pain for the first time in six years. When next they awoke it would be to another bloody-orange sunset on the Sicilian horizon.


End file.
